Fixing Jack
by remuslives23
Summary: Jack finally finds someone who can fix him. Janto. Slash.


_Hiya! Popping my Janto cherry here! I hope you enjoy it. :)_

_**Notes/Warnings:** Rated for sexual content and language. Spoilers for: Torchwood up to and including 'Kiss Kiss Bang Bang', and Doctor Who series 3. A few phrases here and there quoted from Doctor Who._

_**Disclaimer:** This fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by Russel T. Davies and affiliates. No money is being made and no offense is intended. Characters are of legal age for sexual situations._

* * *

_"You're wrong, Jack."_

Jack arched off the bed as a broad tongue curled around the crown of his cock then licked a stripe over the sensitive tip, smeared precome and saliva leaving it glistening. He groaned, but the firm hands that suddenly pressed down on the knobs of his hips stopped him from bucking up, searching for more of that moist heat.

'God, Ianto,' he whispered, his hand clenching tight in brown curls. '_Please_... more...'

Then the tongue was gone and a gentle breath wafted coolly over the wet flesh, the sudden contrast to the heat of Ianto's mouth making Jack shiver.

'Have some patience,' came the teasing voice of his lover, and, as much as Jack wanted to shove that pretty face back into his crotch, he couldn't help but chuckle.

He only had himself to blame for the lengthy, torturous foreplay. Ianto was a very able student.

'You're laughing,' Ianto noted, glancing up at Jack's smiling face with a disapproving expression. 'You should be panting, whimpering, thinking about nothing but my mouth on your dick. This is _not _going to plan.'

Jack quickly wiped the smile from his face. 'I was thinking about my mouth on _your_ cock, actually,' he told him, bringing his hand around to Ianto's face so he could run the tips of his fingers over the swollen, red lips. 'And how well you'd learned your lessons...'

Ianto grinned, his face lighting up, and Jack's stomach twisted pleasantly. 'I had a _very_ good teacher,' Ianto murmured, rubbing his stubbled cheek lightly up and down Jack's shaft.

'Yeah, I know... _Oh!_' Jack gasped, tangling his fingers into Ianto's hair once more as the rough jaw scratched the engorged flesh, raising goose bumps all over his skin. 'You're going to kill me, Ianto.'

'Now, we both know that's not true,' Ianto mumbled, teeth scraping lightly over Jack's tightening sac. Jack heard him inhale deeply then the groaned, 'You smell so fucking _fantastic_, Jack,' made his toes curl.

Ianto's mouth forged a hot, damp trail over Jack's inner thigh, the soft skin there tingling under the onslaught of Ianto's lips and teeth. Jack moaned, the long drawn-out sound laced with frustration as Ianto continued his downward path, kissing the skin behind Jack's knee, dragging his tongue over Jack's ankle, sucking a bruise into the back of his calf.

Jack's fingers clutched at the sheet underneath them and he turned his head to the side, burying his face in the pillow and breathing in the scent of Ianto's shampoo and fabric softener. He and Ianto had done this a hundred times before, but this – _tonight_ – was different. _They_ were different. Everything felt new; raw and honest in a way this had never been before. It was like the first time, but with the familiarity that came with having done this so many times before, and the tenderness and affection in Ianto's knowledgeable touch made Jack want to cry like a baby.

_"You're wrong, Jack."_

Jack had expected a terse exchange once he and Ianto finally had some time alone; terse and strained conversation because Ianto didn't yell, and Jack was too tired to be bothered. But Ianto had simply sat on the bed and said quietly, 'Tell me.'

It all spilled out like soda from a shaken bottle, bursting from him in an uncontrollable flood. Jack told Ianto everything: traveling to the end of the world with The Doctor, meeting The Master, the year he had spent in chains – dying a different way every day, forced to watch as Ianto was killed right in front of him, then time rewinding and The Master's death.

He watched Ianto closely when he finished, the silence stretching out unbearably.

'You never really answered Owen earlier,' Ianto eventually murmured softly. 'Can The Doctor fix you?'

Jack closed his eyes, pain surging like a cresting wave through him as he heard The Doctor's words echoing inside his head, a never-ending mantra reminding him that he was an impossible thing.

'He said I'm wrong,' Jack whispered, hurt giving the words an edge. 'He can't fix me. He can't make me right again.'

There was a moment of silence, of stillness, then Ianto kissed him.

_"You're wrong, Jack."_

Now, cool, slippery fingers breached him and Jack sucked in a sharp breath. His body fought the burn even as he arched off the bed to encourage the invasion.

'Been so long,' he breathed, closing his eyes as the fingers crooked expertly and stars burst behind his lids. 'Dreamed about this, Ianto. Every time I came back from the dark, I thought of you and this and us.'

Suddenly, Ianto's lips were on his, moving as he spoke. 'Never thought I'd get to do this again,' he whispered, sliding his mouth from Jack's to press soft, open-mouthed kisses over his cheek, his chin, his forehead. 'Never thought I'd see you again.'

The fingers left him and Jack whimpered at the loss, feeling open and exposed and empty without Ianto's touch. This is what the other man did. Ianto filled all those cracks and crevices that littered Jack's heart, and he asked for nothing in return.

Long fingers threaded with his own and Jack opened his eyes, drawn into the deep blue intensity of Ianto's gaze. He felt the gentle, but insistent nudge of Ianto's cock between his thighs and he spread his legs wider, welcoming Ianto home.

The slide of Ianto's body in his own made Jack burn with _pleasurepain_, and he could feel every single bump and curve of Ianto's cock, could feel the blood pulsing through Ianto's veins. Ianto was relentless, giving Jack no time to think, only pausing in his slow convergence when he was buried to the hilt inside him. Their sweat-damp palms slid together, fingers tightening, as Ianto pressed their hands into the mattress on either side of Jack's head. Holding Jack's gaze, Ianto dipped his head to press an almost chaste kiss to his lips.

'Jack, you're not wrong.'

The words were barely audible, but Jack heard them, even over the rush of exquisite pleasure as Ianto withdrew then pushed back inside him. Those words – those simple, wonderful words spoken so firmly by this ordinary, beautiful Welshman – were like a soothing balm. Jack could feel the edges of the wounds The Doctor had inflicted knitting seamlessly back together as he and Ianto moved sinuously as one, Ianto murmuring softly into Jack's skin, 'So right, Jack. This... _we_... are so very right...'

Jack's head fell back as the pressure built inside him, a coiling, curling tension low in his stomach that spread throughout his body, hot and tight. He wrapped his legs around Ianto, heels digging into the other man's back as he urged him on; faster and harder and deeper until Jack couldn't tell where he ended and Ianto began. He could feel his orgasm begin in his toes, roaring through every cell and molecule of his body until it exploded from him, wrenching a desperate cry of '_Ianto_!' from his throat.

His own name rang out, bouncing off every wall of Ianto's bedroom as with one last powerful plunge, Ianto poured himself into Jack, gave him ownership of his very soul. Then his body was covering Jack's, the weight warm and reassuring and steady, and Jack knew that no matter what, when he was here, when he was in Ianto's arms, nothing was impossible.

'You're not wrong, Jack,' Ianto repeated softly, lips brushing over the shell of Jack's ear and, for the first time, Jack believed it.

_fin._


End file.
